


La Vie en rose

by dantetrieswriting



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Even Bech Næsheim is Extra, Fluff, Isak is cute and flirty and blushy, M/M, More Fluff, Other Skam characters are mentioned, POV Alternating, and then a bit more fluff, it's just a big cliche bc i felt like it, it's just all sweet so enjoy, poet even, there's some poetry here and there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-17 06:52:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14827490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dantetrieswriting/pseuds/dantetrieswriting
Summary: It was as if he carried the picturesque moments in the bottom of his pocket and the warmth of the sun in his heart. The blue of the sky was a mere fraction of his eyes, and not one of the golden fields glowed as bright as his smile. He could pinpoint the exact emotion of the night and immortalize it in cursive letters in a corner of his notebook. He was the poet and Isak was his muse. He just didn't know it yet.Or the AU no one asked for where Even writes poetry, but when his brain starts to lack inspiration, he decides to move to southern France for a summer. Enter Isak, young, lost and desperate for peace. When the crowded streets of Oslo start creeping into his nightmares, he digs up a box from the corner of his closet, which holds the key to his grandmother's old house near a little village between golden fields and complete freedom. Two hopeless boys in the land of love. The story writes itself.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> I just can't commit to one fic, can I?? It's like instead of updating my current ones I just keep starting new verses but like ?? I do what i want and if u wanna b mad about it then be mad about it ,,

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the prologue

_Even:_

It was June. The start of summer. A new beginning like fresh cut grass, ready to grow and grow and grow all through the sunny months. Ready to flourish and bring new things to life, to admire and be admired. Summer meant freedom. Freedom for the body and mind alike. Three months for Even to relax, collect himself and let his creativity flow. Except, there was a small problem. The problem being a lack of creativity. A lack of inspiration. It had been two week since Even's pen had last touched the rough, cream tinted sheets in his notebook. Two weeks since he'd got past one line. It was always the same. There was an idea. A picture in his head that he couldn't quite catch in vivid color. A sound that was too faint to replay in his head. Maybe the idea gave him a word. Sometimes even a few. But it never went past that. It was never more than a mere beginning of something forced, rough edges and dull like a block of concrete. Never more. 

"I think I should get away for the summer," Even said, sighing into his coffee cup, and Sana raised an eyebrow at him.

"Why?" 

Even took a second, lifting his eyes from the table and dragging his gaze towards the window. Grey walls, a background to rushing people glued to almighty glowing rectangles that seemed to have taken control of the world. There was nothing- _no one_ -new. Even the once blue sky seemed to be blurring into stone, disappearing, falling. For a second, Even thought he saw a boy with golden curls and emerald eyes, but he seemed to be gone as quick as he came.

*

_liquid gold in waves and swirls_

_vivid emeralds, bright green pearls_

_a creature, being, so divine_

_what i'd do to see him one more time_

*

"I don't have any inspiration for writing anymore. Oslo is just too dull. There's nothing new here. I need a change. Some motivation. A muse, maybe," he replied with a slight chuckle at the end.

"Okay, yeah, I get that. But where are you gonna go?" she asked, reminding Even of the one  _slight_ problem that still lingered in the air.  _Where?_

"I uh, don't know yet. I don't really have a place to go."

Sana was quiet for a while before speaking up again.

"I think I could help with that," she said, continuing before Even could do so much as open his mouth, "my family has a small house outside of a village in southern France. No one's been there for years, but I think it's still standing. It's not much, but I know how much it would help you. What do you say?"

Even booked a plane ticket that same night. In a week, he would be under the golden sun of southern France.

\---

_Isak:_

Isak was frantically ripping his entire room apart, t-shirts and jeans flying over his head, books falling on the ground with loud thuds, a lamp getting knocked over in the process. Every box was pulled out from underneath his bed, every corner and shelf emptied on the floor. And nothing. There was nothing. Yet. There was one last place. His closet. Isak sighed before pulling the door open and diving into the hoards of tossed clothes and half-assed cleaning. When Isak hit his hand on something hard in the midst of all the fabric, his instinctive curse was almost filled with relief. Because there it was. Isak grabbed the edges of the object, pulling it out from under the mess. Finally. A faded brown box stubbed at the corners, a little bit dirty and dusty in the cracks. There was a golden hook holding it closed, and when Isak pressed a thumb onto it, it popped open with a quiet  _click_ sound. The box smelled of old photographs, memories and whispered secrets. It was full of black and white pictures and letters, and there, at the very bottom, was a key. A small rusty key. Isak squeezed it in his palm and hummed triumphantly. The metal hit his wooden table with a loud shrill which faded into typing on keys and clicks. As soon as Isak had bought the ticket, he started packing. No more shadowed rush hours or stale rows of bricks. No more waking up in cold sweats and tears. No more pulling hair or clenching teeth. No more Oslo. No more stress. Just Isak. For three months, it would be just Isak. Finally. He was ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> check out my [wattpad](https://www.wattpad.com/user/heyitsdante) !!


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The arrival: Even

When the car finally pulled up in front of a small house, some of the nervous jitters in Even's stomach were really starting to sink in. He was alone for three months in a place he'd never been to, with people he'd never met. Sure, his French speaking skills were above the average Norwegian student, but they certainly needed some polishing. With all his wrapped up shakes and suitcases now on the side of the road, Even reached for a good amount of money from his wallet to give to the driver and left with a quick  _merci beaucoup_ accompanied by a wave of his hand. Then the white car was taking off, leaving a cloud of dust behind to conceal the true nature of Even's anxiety.

He was standing in front of a light yellow fence where the paint was chipping off in small pieces, revealing the worn out wood that had been covered for, what Even assumed, decades. He reluctantly grabbed all his bags from the road, making way towards the gate. It opened with a light push of his foot. And then there was a loud crack and the gate fell to the ground with a noisy rattle and Even cringed, muttering a few necessary curse words. When he finally looked up again, he was faced with a house that looked like something straight out of an artist's wet dream. It was mostly hidden from the outside world by trees and bushes and the thick vines that seemed to be swallowing the building whole made its ten year desertion obvious. _But the house_. For starters, it was yellow. The paint was worn out just like the fence's, but it was brighter, warmer. It had a late summer night sunset hue that Even could pinpoint exactly back to his childhood. The red wooden railing on the front porch was still as bright as the strawberry stains on his shirt his mother had always scolded him about when he was little. The windows were covered by light pink painted boards crafted into shutters to keep the outsiders away. A small roof was covering the front door that matched the shutters in colour. There was a small square window in the pink wood, stained glass that reflected every colour of the rainbow, and Even could not wait to see it in the morning sun. There was a large bell right next to the doorframe, a milder version of the ear-piercing ringers in bleak Oslo. A wind chime was hanging, singing, announcing its presence.

Even was taking it all in as he walked across the stone covered pathway towards the front door. He dumped his bags unceremoniously onto the ground that creaked under any movement and fumbled for the key in his pocket. When his fingers pulled the cold metal out of his jacket, his hands were shaky. Pulling himself together, he moved the small object towards the keyhole that he now realized was covered in rust. It wasn't really the dramatic movie scene he was hoping for, where the key just slides swiftly in and clicks and it's all dreamy and satisfying. Oh no. A thought skittered across Even's mind that the moment was like losing your virginity, with the smooth sailing it seems like in movies, facing the actual awkward  ~~and a bit painful~~ moment you were most certainly not expecting. He laughed out at the though, but it was interrupted by the frustration of his incapability of actually turning the key. He was wiggling it and trying to push the door as he turned and fiddling with the handle but nothing seemed to work. He tried to pull the key out but,  _of course,_ it was stuck. Even tried pulling it as strong as he could, but his fingers slipped off, leaving him with a nice little wound. _Great_. Even chuckled bitterly at his own misfortune, opting for a different entrance. Any kind of entrance. That's when he noticed the small window. It seemed to be leading to the attic and it was covered in green, which perfectly hid the fact that there was no glass in front of it. Technically, it was just a rectangular hole in the wall. But it matched the criteria of 'entrance' in Even's head, so new plan, operation Spider-Man. 

Maybe scaling the largest oak Even had seen in his life wasn't his best idea, but some of its branches just happened to perfectly line up with the window, so he went for it. Long limbs were a huge bonus in his situation, so Even made quick work of the tree, all his childhood tree-climbing skills finally coming to good use. He was up on the higher branches in no time, slowly inching towards the house. And that was the moment he realized that there was no way those nimble twigs at the end could carry all of his weight, so his entire operation was positively screwed. Unless- well, without further thought, Even took all his guts already oozing out of him, stuffed them back and carefully got on his feet. He knew that what he was doing was highly dangerous and in no way better than just breaking a window to get in, but he was going to finish what he started, so being the stubborn 23 year old that he was, Even hooked his fingers onto the edge of the roof, gripping it so tight his knuckles turned white. That was before he stepped off the branch and was actually holding onto dear life, clutching the tiles as he started pulling himself towards the middle of the wall inch by inch. The earlier mishap with the key was really declaring its presence now, making Even hiss with every movement. Once he was close enough, he could easily stretch a leg into the window frame, steadying himself and grabbing every protruding object on his way as he  _finally_ made it into the house. 

So, Even had been right. The place where he landed was definitely the attic. It was dark, a mere few streaks of light fighting their way in through the leaves. The whole room seemed weary and gray, spiderwebs and layers of dust streaking every surface. He could barely see as he started walking across the room, throat beginning to itch and eyes watering. He was bumping into large chests and broken furniture on the way, walking over what he assumed to be a carpet at one point. The floorboards creaked under his steps. Finally, Even reached for the handle of the trapdoor  right next to the wall, and it made a shrilling squeak when it opened. There was no ladder or stairs, so Even sat on the edge of the opening, holding onto the wooden boards as he lowered his body enough that when he jumped, it wouldn't hurt. The rest of the house seemed to be almost as dark as the attic. Even could see some things, but as his feet met the ground again, the sight was like in a black and white movie. The lack of light had drained all colour, leaving everything looking just a bit too horror movie-ish. Even walked across the hallway he'd landed in with tentative steps that echoed through the walls, again and again and again, making the eerie look of his surroundings really creep up his bones and send shivers down his spine. He walked down the dusty stairs that felt as if they were going to give into his weight any given moment, glancing at the faded photographs of the Bakkoush family, going back decades and decades. There was a scary similarity that carried across the generations. When Even made it downstairs, his first instinct was to open every window he could. With every shutter pushed away, more and more rays of the midday sun were streaking in, revealing every colour hidden in the walls and floor. Details previously missed were now clear and vivid and the place suddenly seemed a lot less creepy and a lot more like a home. The walls were painted different colours and some had wallpaper with flowers. Every carpet was laced with different shades and hues, every painting on the walls bright and inviting. Even was grinning by the time he was done. It really was a gorgeous place. There was something about its rustic, countyside vibe that really made it feel warm. Even's final stop was the front door. He was more than pleased to find that the door could be unlocked without a key from the inside. Pressing the handle down did need some strength, and actually pushing the door oped erupted a cloud of dust and wood particles. Even quickly grabbed his bags and placed them inside. Trying his luck with the key once again, to his success it slipped right out of the keyhole and into his palm. Even slipped it into the pocket of his jeans before stretching his arms high above his head. The place needed a lot of work, but Even had a whopping three months. He would start by cleaning and fixing the gate, the rest could wait a little. Just as he reached for the door to close it again, there was the sound of a bike on the road. A head of blonde curls and a blinding smile in Even's way gave him a strange deja vu feeling. They were poetry without words. Even couldn't help but blush and feel a little weak. He stepped back in, pulling he door shut behind him. He didn't stop grinning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> check out my [wattpad](https://www.wattpad.com/user/heyitsdante) !!


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who is that tall angel staying in the Bakkoush residence? : Isak

Navigating the small pink house had been fairly easy, given the fact that most of Isak's childhood had been spent there. Or, well, most of his life. Isak had been raised and homeschooled by grandma Valtersen for the first sixteen years of his life, apart from the occasional Oslo trip to visit his mother in the hospital. And Isak lived well and was happy all those sixteen years. His grandma was his best friend, which may sound sad, but it was all Isak needed to get through. Losing her at sixteen had been a heartbreak he never recovered from. But after six years of hiding the past in a small box in the corner of his room, he was ready. The initial arrival had been emotional and Isak had cried for a good few hours when he'd found the photographs of himself and Mari, framed all around the house, a story told in faded pictures. His bedroom was exactly the same as he'd left it, the empty glass of water still lying on its side on the desk, stacks of schoolwork and books all over the floor. There were shirts on the bed, a pair of blue boxers right in the middle of the carpet. Isak picked them up with a chuckle and flinged them across the room into the laundry basket. He took the notes and textbooks from the floor, organized them in a neat pile on the shelf above his bed. Took the t-shirts that were sprawled out on his duvet, throwing them in the general direction of the wardrobe one by one, lingering just a little bit too long on the yellow one that still somehow smelled of her. Grabbed the glass from his desk and a stray spoon, hopping down the stairs two at a time, a childish habit his grandma had hated. The floorboards still cracked under every step, too stubborn to give in to their age. Isak took the items to the kitchen, placing them in the sink for later. He turned around and leaned on the counter, eyes glued to the wall in front of him. It was still there in all its glory, reminding him of the true beauty of Mari's soul. The bright rainbow flag draped across the stripey wallpaper, decorated with pins and hearts and memories and love. The colours were still as vivid as they'd always been, and the fact brought a tear in Isak's eye. He smiled to himself. It was going to be a good summer.

It wasn't long before Isak was digging up his old bike from the garage for a tour of the village and maybe a quick visit to the small town near it. But of course, the bike was in an excellently terrible condition, which meant Isak had to spend two hours repairing it before he could head out. And by the time he was finished, he was positively exhausted. Still, curiosity won in the end and Isak hopped on the bike, wheels leaving behind clouds of light sand and dusty roads. The golden midday sun caressed his skin, dancing over the small freckles on his face, getting lost in his dimples, making him feel warm all over. The gentle breeze that lifted his curls was laced with the smell of fresh air and years of freedom. It carried the voices of people Isak hadn't seen for years, but who still had his face clicked in their memories like a photograph, and he waved at them, teeth flashing on a bright smile. When he passed the Bakkoush residence, he was sure he imagined the lanky body scaling up the oak in front of the yellow house. As he rode his bike under the tall trees and blue sky, shouting greetings at every person who had only existed in his memories for the past six years, he couldn't help but feel complete and utter comfort. Like he was finally home. 

The sparse forest next to the road brought back flashing images of laughing and running and dreaming of a bright future. The lake on the other side was a replaying video in his mind of splashing waves and wet curls and friends he'd found and lost over the years. Riding past a white cottage, Isak couldn't help but notice the fallen tree house. The same tree house where he lost his virginity to a boy. Gabriel. The bright green eyes, red hair and golden freckles were still evident in his mind, bringing a smile to his face as he finally crossed the small bridge that led to the road towards the town. But as soon as he was on the other side, he stopped. He could see the faint line where the buildings melted into the sky and he wasn't sure if he was ready. All the little coffee shops and stores and the old movie theater still seemed like too much, too soon. Maybe another day. He turned around and began his way back, following a different path for a while before the two molded together again and every detail seemed to be the same as it had always been. Only the trees were taller and somehow the grass seemed greener, but the sunflowers were ready to bloom in a few weeks time and the birds still created the most beautiful melody. And this time, when Isak passed the Bakkoush house again, he didn't imagine the tall blonde who quite frankly took his breath away and he smiled bright when the man looked at him to conceal the fact he'd nearly crashed a mere few seconds earlier. _Okay, wow._

When Isak dropped his bike on the grass in front of his house, his mind was still on the absolutely breathtaking man. A part of him was flaming with need to see the man again, talk to him, be near him, maybe kiss him until his lungs collapsed. Yet then there was the part that was utterly confused as to why a golden haired angel had taken over Sana's old place. To his knowledge, the house still belonged to their family, so this man's sudden appearance was quite a surprise. _Maybe they were renting out the house?_ After all, it had been standing empty for ten years now, Isak thinks. The man most certainly did not seem like an intruder or burglar, or maybe Isak just didn't want him to seem like it because the man was just way too damn gorgeous. Isak didn't think he'd ever seen a man so beautiful before. He hadn't even gotten a proper look of him, but he was sure that his eyes had been blue. His hair had been as glowy as the sun and his smile was something absolutely ethereal. He looked like someone plucked straight out of Isak's dreams. _All kinds of dreams_. 

Isak rummaged through his suitcase for the small bag of groceries he'd bought right near the airport in Rodez. The last time he'd eaten was a quick fix bite in London, but it had been far from enough, so spaghetti would have to do. Isak pulled out the tomato sauce and spaghetti and threw them onto the table and then proceeded to scour every cabinet and drawer for some clean dishes. A few clashes and creaks, curses and  _ow_ 's later, the pasta was sitting in the pot in boiling water and Isak was filling the fridge with the few edible things he was in possession of. The fridge was empty and not plugged to the outlet, so Isak had to smush himself as close to the wall as he could to reach behind it, and it sure was a sight. His face was pressed tightly against the cold chipping paint and he desperately tried to reach the cord. He hurt himself a total of three times before succeeding and then flopping down onto his back on the cool floor. The action made all hairs on his body stand up and he shivered before sitting back up and wiping his forehead with a dirty hand. There were certainly a lot of things that needed adjusting again and a lot of time needed to really get things going again. Most of the lamps in the house were not working and Isak was pretty sure that the railing on the stairs was .3 seconds from falling off. It was a work in progress. Isak didn't mind. This was home. He was home.

Later that night, when  _some_ of the electronics were fixed, Isak was on his old bed, lying on his back in dim lighting, looking up at his ceiling. The stars Mari had glued there over fifteen years prior were still there and still glowing. In the dark, it was almost as if Isak was a child again. Almost as if he was under the real starry sky, looking up at Mari. Somewhere in his heart, he knew she was watching. He knew she was proud. Isak's thoughts were interrupted by a loud ringing. He hadn't checked his phone since that small cafe in London, so it was bound to announce its presence at one point. Isak picked it from the bedside table just to be faced with a facetime call from Jonas. He picked it up and both him and Eva were grinning wide at him.

"Hei!! How was your first day?" Eva asked in a sweet happy voice. Isak smiled wide back at the couple.

"Really good. But isn't this call going to cost you like a fortune Jonas?"

Jonas snorted and shook his head.

"Nope. Calling to other countries costs the same as calling in the country for me. It's all good, man. But tell us more. How was the house? Did you meet anyone new? Did you see  _Gabriel_?"

Isak laughed at that, scrunching up his nose a little.

"The house is in better condition than I thought it would be. It needs some work, but i'll manage. As for meeting new people, I was riding my old bike around the village and I noticed someone staying at the Bakkoush house. A tall man. A very handsome one, may I add," Isak said, and both Jonas and Eva cracked up "And no, I didn't see Gabriel. But I drove past his family's cottage and his tree house had fallen down." Isak added, and his voice got just a little bit sad at the end.

"Well, that tree house has seen some shit and probably should've been burned if i'm h-" Jonas teased, but was cut off by Eva's hand smacking the back of his head.

"Hey! That hurt!" He said in mock distaste, but Eva just poked her tongue out of her mouth at him. Isak could see Jonas tackling Eva onto their bed and he laughed.

"I swear, you're still like teenagers. But i'll leave you to it, so bye!"

Jonas and Eva both said their muffled goodbyes and Isak took the liberty of ending the call. He threw the phone onto his bed but it bounced up and off the side of it. Isak didn't move to pick it up. He was perfectly content with it staying on the carpet. After a while, he stood up again and pulled a toothbrush, toothpaste and a towel out of his bag. He headed to the bathroom right across the hall and when he turned on the light, the room broke something deep in his heart. His and Mari's toothbrushes were still in the exact same place, a bottle of her pills situated next to the sink. There were towels on the shelves and everything was just exactly the same. It hurt. The only thing different was the mirror. It was covered in years of abandonment and darkness. Isak could barely make out his own silhouette. He stripped down, folding his clothes neatly and stepping under the stream of water. It still didn't really warm up all the way, just as it always hadn't. So Isak stood under the spray of lukewarm water, shivering only a little when he finally got out. He was very aware of the trail of wet footprints he left on his way back to his room, but he didn't have the energy to care. He just pulled out an old t-shirt from the wardrobe which had collected a few holes during his absence and a pair of boxers from his suitcase. Turning off the yellow tinted light, he melted into the sheets, melted back into his past. His last thought before falling into deep slumber was a quiff of golden hair and a smile as blinding as the sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> check out my [wattpad](https://www.wattpad.com/user/heyitsdante) !!


	4. Four

Even was having his mandatory second cup of coffee that morning, a routine set in stone like the sun rising each day. Something he'd picked up somewhere along the way but never acknowledged. One of the little things that shaped his life, made him feel like himself. His mind was still racing with images of that man. The man that carried the physical embodiment of warmth on his face. The man with the curls that looked like pure gold. The man that made Even's whole body go weak every time he thought of him. His face and his smile were scribbled on tiny papers all across the kitchen table, his entire existence boxed in cursive letters in black ink.

_glossy lips i'd kill to kiss_

_a boy i'd never want to miss_

_darling, we've been made for this_

_i assure, we could be pure bliss_

_if you'd just grant me this one wish._

There were heaps of notebook pages getting caught in the early morning wind, getting carried across the house, lost to Even's eyes. Not once did he even blink when another one of his failed tries took the leap. He just sat there, mesmerized by the rays of sunshine that were breaking in through the stained glass window on the front door. The colours were dancing in front of Even's eyes, gliding over every surface they could latch onto, creating the most magical sight. As if the lines from a poetry book came to life, embracing Even into their world, syllables of untainted beauty. He let himself be pulled between the lines, reading their real message, tucking the unsaid words in his chest, craving more and more and more.

When the last laces of the sun disappeared behind the trees, the source of the light now high up in the sky, Even finally got up from the table. He pulled together most of the papers he could find, shoving them in a drawer in the living room next to old newspapers and magazines. Flipping through them, he snatched one out of the pile and stuffed it in his pocket. Loud footsteps, the sound of bare feet on wood, a vivid memory of running though the house on Christmas morning at five years of age, echoed through the empty house as Even's long strides led him back to the bedroom. Pulling on a white t-shirt and socks, he felt ready for the day. Ready for the summer. He walked out of the room and then back in, quick fingers sliding his wallet into the pocket of his shorts. He grabbed the house key and a map on his way out, securely locking the door behind him. The faint sound of the wind chime melted with the birds' singing and for a second, Even felt complete peace.

He very clearly remembered Sana telling him that in order to get to the road that led to town, he would have to cross a small bridge. And well, Even had been walking for a while now, and there seemed to be no evidence of a bridge. There were houses and more houses and at one point he passed a lake, but no bridge was anywhere to be seen. The wind was warmer than it had been the previous day and it carried the distant sound of a clock striking twelve, giving him a dim hope that he was still walking in the right direction. He walked past a white cottage with a fallen tree house. A man with light brown hair was carrying, what Even assumed to be, his pregnant wife over the threshold. The man didn't look any older than himself. Even smiled at the thought of it. Being so young yet having your life sorted out. Having someone to love enough to promise them your entire life. Enough to create life of your own. After breaking up with Sonja with 6 years of memories and shared promises behind them, he wasn't sure if he'd ever find that. It had been a year and Even still hadn't found anyone. It wasn't as if he was really losing hope. It just made something deep in his heart ache just a little bit. It was one of those things. As the thoughts raced through his mind, Even finally caught sight of a river, a white painted bridge joining it's two banks. He let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding as his feet carried him over the water, now heading down the narrow path between two fields that seemed to be mere weeks away from blooming. Even could see the skyline of the small town, could already hear the faint chatter and children's laughter. The closer he got, the more he could distinct the voices from one another, could pinpoint a little girl calling for her mother, a man laughing somewhere and two people arguing. He could hear the sound of bike bells and people having lunch outside. These were the tell-tale signs of a town, yet it didn't seem scary. It wasn't a town like Oslo, where people were always in a rush, the sound of car horns and curses always filling his ears. This was a different town. The one where everyone knows everyone. The one where life seems to be going slower that the outside world. The one where you can breathe and live and feel alive. Even liked towns like that. He liked this place.

Instead of finding a store where he could get his groceries, Even opted for the market in the middle of the town square where all its larger streets seemed to meet. The ground was made of cobblestone and all houses were painted different colours, which gave the whole town a dreamy, picturesque look. Like something straight out of a fairytale. Walking through the market, Even was met with smiling faces and waves. Everyone welcomed him as if he'd been a part of the community all his life. After an hour of new discoveries and small-talk, Even was carrying a hefty bag filled with all different kinds of vegetables and things he'd never even heard of. Despite that, he was more than willing to try it all out. After all, this was his summer of new beginnings. New experiences. Food might as well be one of them. Even realized soon, that buying everything before exploring the town had been a bad idea. His arms were starting to give out and he still had a long way back, so he decided to leave the rest for another day, or possibly the same afternoon, slowly making way towards the edge of town. Walking down the main street, he suddenly caught sight of the subject of his dreams. _Oh damn_. He was standing just a few feet ahead of Even, face pointed towards a balcony where an elderly woman was speaking to him in soft smiles. If Even had thought he'd looked good on his bike, this was so, so, so much better. He was wearing a mustard yellow shirt that had one of those half turtlenecks, and the soft fabric hugged his body in all the right ways. The yellow was contrasted by the bright blue of his rolled up jean shorts that barely reached his mid-thighs, baring the expanse of his sinfully long tanned legs that were covered with tiny freckles. Freckles that continued on his arms and neck, reaching his pink tinted cheeks that held the form of a smirk, causing a dimple to pop up next to his plush pink lips that Even wished he could just kiss forever. As the thought skittered his mind, he suddenly realized that the man was in fact looking at him now. And had been for a while. Even blushed deeply as he looked up to find the man's eyebrows raised above the greenest eyes he'd ever seen in his life. They were like mid July grass and warm smiles and  _damn,_ Even really should stop staring and say something. The man beat him to it, as if reading his mind.

"I appreciate the attention, but it's impolite to stare," he stated in the most beautiful voice, speaking fluent French, and Even's cheeks got just a little bit more heated when the man's smirk grew into a grin.

"I uh, sorry?" Even said, but it came out more like a question. The old woman snickered above them before saying a quick goodbye to the man and retreating back inside. The man laughed at Even's incapability to even form a proper sentence, and he waved it off.

"It's all right. Not the first time it's happened. You're the first one to apologize though," he said with a light chuckle, and Even smiled back a him in a fit of courage. But then the man started speaking more fast and Even was having a really hard time keeping up with the foreign language, so when the man finished what sounded like a question, Even just sighed a  _'Faen'_ and took a deep breath. Suddenly, the man's expression changed, and his eyes lit up like fireflies on a cool summer night.

"You're Norwegian?" he asked in pure disbelief, and something in Even danced at the sound of this man's voice speaking his own language, so he grinned wide and nodded.

"Yeah. You too?"

The man nodded and his face mirrored Even's own, both dimples evident now, freckles glowing in the sun. He reached out his hand for Even to shake and spoke, "I'm Isak."

Even took the hand, and the cliche part of him suddenly took over, so he lifted the hand to his lips and kissed the man's -  _Isak's_ \- knuckles, which left Isak with rose tinted cheeks and teeth biting into his lower lip, hiding a small smile.

"Even."

Isak grinned.

"Nice to meet you, Even. Now, were you heading back or do you have time for a tour?"

For the first time since seeing him, Even acknowledged the bag in his hand and he gestured to it, scrunching up his nose.

"I was actually going home. But I wouldn't say no to a tour another time, if you're still up to it."

Isak smiled.

"Anytime. I was actually heading back myself, so maybe we could walk together?"

"I'd like that."

Isak had insisted on carrying Even's bag for just a little while, saying how it was unfair that Even would have to suffer alone. Of course, Even had protested, but Isak was damn good at arguing, so needless to say, he was carrying Even's bag now.

"So, how did you end up at the Bakkoush residence?" Isak spoke up, making Even's eyebrows shoot higher on his forehead.

"Uh, Sana offered it to me for the summer. And how do you know the Bakkoush's?"

"They used to come here every summer. Me and Sana were good friends. We still are, by the way. I'm surprised we've never crossed paths before."

"Wow," Even chuckled, "The world sure is small. But how did you end up here? Are you living here or what?"

"Oh no, not anymore," Isak said on a deep sigh, "I'm just here for the summer. Needed to get away from Oslo for a while, y'know. I imagine you're here because of that as well."

Even chuckled and nodded. But a question still rose in his head.

"What do you mean by not anymore?"

He didn't want to pry, but he was curious. It's human nature. Isak glanced at him from the corner of his eye and bit his lip.

"That's a sob story for another time."

Even left it at that. It wasn't his place to push. But Isak's answer did leave Even with something good. A promise that there would be _another time_. A promise that was later confirmed and locked into place at Isak's gate, a promise to meet the next day in front of Isak's house at 11. A promise for something more, something new. A chance Even was not going to screw up. Even nearly skipped home that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> check out my [wattpad](https://www.wattpad.com/user/heyitsdante) !!


	5. Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow look @ me getting inconsistent already whoo !! (as i'm continuing this for like the third time in weeks i'd like to point out that i've had a proper dry gin cocktail and am currently sipping a fruit wine cooler so stay with me here okay i've written a few paragraphs in the past few weeks while bein sober but this may go downhill real fast idk) (i've had exams n family stuff bbbut anyway i've been starting to get my life together which involves working out every day and going outside and eating healthier and going to sleep on time and putting away my phone and computer like an hour before going to bed so getting used to the new routine has kept me back a bit but I will start posting more regularly soon !! but i can't promise anything i'm sorry ! my mental and physical health come first for me so i hope u can deal with that)

He picked a flower from the side of the road and stuck it between two strands of hair right behind his ear. A slight tickle and then the birds' singing was enough of a distraction that it was forgotten. A fast rhythm in his chest was still an indication of something exciting. Or, someone, would be more correct. The watch on Isak's wrist read 10:56, so Even should be out any minute and Isak could pretend like he hadn't spent the last thirty minutes pacing back and forth in front of the yard, hidden enough behind the uncontrollable green that he couldn't be spotted from a window. The chance of Even catching him near a nervous breakdown because of a simple breakfast-or, well, technically it was brunch-would be enough for Isak to move across the globe and get a new identity. So when the clear sound of a lock clicking and long strides caught his ear, Isak straightened his back, took three deep breaths and put on a wide smile before walking towards the gate as if the earthquake in his steps wasn't obvious. As if his eyes weren't a tell-tale sign of every shiver running through his veins. As if he didn't just trip on a pebble as soon as he caught sight of bright sky blue eyes, landing him face-first in Even's chest. For a fraction of a second, he was sure that he was going to end up on the ground, but then there was a pair of strong hands gripping his waist and pushing him back on his feet. Isak could physically feel the heat in his cheeks, red as the autumn apples. And the tint only grew stronger when he was met with a blinding smile and, wait, was Even blushing as well?

"Whoa, guess you fell for me." he said, and _'oh fuck, if you only knew'_ was the only proper sentence occupying Isak's mind, but that was the last thing he was going to say. _But wait, oh no,_ judging by Even's raised brows and slack jaw, it seems Isak's tongue had took it upon itself to positively burn every cell of Isak's pride and dignity left.

"Well, it was nice meeting you but I think i'll move to Brazil now, maybe. Or Canada. Um, yeah."

Even laughed and it was magical. The way his eyes lit up and the way he threw his head back. The way his grip tightened around Isak's waist just that little bit that reminded him of the fact that Even was still, in fact, holding him. And Isak never wanted to move again.

"We'll see how breakfast goes and then maybe i'll let you. I probably won't." Even grinned all through the time he spoke, making Isak's insides twist and turn. 'I hope you don't'. This time Isak had the strength to keep his mouth shut and he let out an embarrassing giggle and he blushed again. When they pulled off, Isak was sure he imagined the 'faen, you're too cute'.

The walk towards the city was mostly quiet, but it was a comfortable silence, only punctured by bird calls and distant laughter gliding in the wind.It was a warm silence. It made Isak grin and giggle quietly and he saw Even turn his head to give him a questioning smile.

"Did a bird just tell you a joke or did you have a wild coffee this morning?"

Isak's tongue popped out of his mouth just a little when he laughed and shook his head.

"Neither," he giggled, "I'm just happy."

Even gave him the warmest, prettiest smile that made Isak's heart speed up.

"Is there a particular reason?" he asked, and Isak could hear a teasing tone in his voice. He raised an eyebrow as he shot a glance at Even.

"Well I am on my way to get breakfast with the most beautiful man i've ever seen." he said with a proud chuckle which turned even prouder when he caught the pink tint on Even's cheeks.

"Sorry, but i'm already doing that soo.." Even spoke and pursed his lips and then scrunched his nose as he looked at Isak and he looked so damn gorgeous yet so cute and Isak laughed. It was a thankful, heartfelt laugh. Even seemed to be into it. Which meant Isak had an actual chance. He liked Even. Even with the sky blue eyes and the angelic laugh. Even who kissed his damn hand the first time they met. Even who he wished would kiss other places of his body too. ~~_And he didn't just mean his lips._~~

Swirls of fresh countryside air mixed with a touch of freshly baked bread and red strawberries. Warm greetings and smiles. Cobblestone underneath small feet and laughter. A clean, cold pavement echoing beneath the towns hundred voices. Beneath Isak's feet. Beneath Even's unfairly long and breathtaking body. Beneath his blinding smile and stupid jokes that filled their journey. Beneath the soft hands he offered Isak to help him climb over a dent in the road. Beneath the golden quiff that sparkled in the sun. Clean French and store bells. A glass door announcing their arrival to the corner cafe located just a bit left from the market, a clear few steps away from Maries home. A room you could fit in your pocket, counted chairs and beaming faces looking like they'd been waiting for Isak without changing a bit ever since he left. The scent of delicious coffee and guilty pastries that won't let you stop at one. The same blue aprons and the same soft, rounded lady with the dimples and dark brown eyes. The same cheesecake that Isak had fallen hopelessly in love with all those years back.The same one Carmen was picking out two pieces of, lifting them on two yellow porcelain plates without Isak having the time to do as much as breathe. It was a routine still in place after all that time. A memory. A 'welcome back' in the town that never changes.

"You know these people?" Even asked as they were sitting down at the table next to the big window. Isak nodded.

"I spent my childhood here. As I said yesterday, that's for another time," he said, laughing a bit at the end, "but I never had the chance to ask you why you really came here."

"I was deeply lacking inspiration to write. Needed a break. Something new and fresh."

"You write?" he asked and Even grinned wide.

"Yeah. Poetry, mostly."

"That's amazing! Will you let me read something sometime?" Isak asked, biting his lip hopefully.

"I guess. I mean since you're just so beautiful, I guess I will." Isak blushed at that.

Talking had made both men forget the absolute heaven on earth that was sitting on their plates, so when Isak wanted to lean his elbow on the table, but ended up on a fork instead, his mind suddenly cleared and he lifted his eyebrows at Even for a quick moment.

"This is actual pure gold and you have got to try it. Trust me," he said, face full serious, but Even still let out a small chuckle but grabbed his fork nonetheless.

Biting into the dessert was about a thousand times better than Isak could have ever imagined. The clean taste of the cream cheese and fresh blueberries held vivid childhood memories, rainy day tunes and sunshine. Judging by the noises Even was making, he was enjoying it too.

"Don't get too excited now, we're still in public," Isak teased, and Even stuck his tongue out just a tiny bit. Isak tangled their ankles underneath the table as he dropped his head to giggle. When he looked back up, Even's mouth was stretched wide and all his bright teeth were showing. Isak thought he looked absolutely ethereal. The thought lingered all through breakfast. Through the gripping stories and heart warming memories, behind the silly jokes and blatant sarcasm, there was Even. Sitting in front of him, bare ankles hooked on each other just like Isak was hooked on Even syllable that barreled over Even's lips. Eyes glued to every part of him, hungry for more, always more. His mind was aching to know every detail,in the way that he wanted to share both the good and the bad. He wanted to crawl underneath the covers of Evens worst nightmares and spoon them until they melted. He wanted to find all of Even. Because this beautiful man was giving him a fresh chance of love. A clean-cut blank page, a quill and an ink pot. His lips told the beginning of a fairytale love story and his eyes were the happy ever after. He was the Prince Charming and Isak wanted to know his beast. Wanted to meet every thought hidden between the lines and every in-your-face problem that came with a cliche. Isak wanted to know Even. He wanted to have Even. And Even was giving himself to Isak. Handing himself over like a cup of coffee over a counter with a quick smile. And the corners of Isak's mouth were stretched wide. _To new love stories._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> check out my [wattpad](https://www.wattpad.com/user/heyitsdante) !!


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